Oh, The Memories
by Swyfte
Summary: She remembers. They don't. Her mother's final words are her eternal, haunting curse, but she can not share it. They're her shackles. They weigh her down, turn her paws to wood. She can run, but she can't hide.


They're so happy. They don't see her pain- the pain she should _share_ with them.

Why don't they remember?

They were kits. They were young, so impressionable; it should have been scorched it their memories, haunting their dreams, hiding in every shadow as it does for her. Lurking, ready to pop out at every opportune moment, grinning with barbed fangs, poised to drag you under to _remember-_

"_Ma. Blue. Ma!" As much as Juniper mewled her mother's name, the limp heap of blue-grey fur would not respond. _

_Twig and Feather twitched beside her, twined together, resting with their heads on each other's flanks. They didn't stir; not as the breath rattled in their mother's dry throat, not as she sighed and mumbled, not as the prominent bones beneath her pelt dug into their ribs. They saw, and with the ignorance of kits, with the youthful belief that everything would return to normal, they tried to pretend that they did not know what was happening._

_Juniper was the smart one; she'd always been intelligent, perceptive. Twig was the nosey one and Feather had a sweet charisma, but Juniper was the one that plotted their crazy schemes and ideas. She knew their mother did not have a passing illness. A different kind of sickness ravaged her unmoving body- hunger. It dulled her fur and sucked her flesh from her bones, leaving a cat composed of shrivelled skin and brittle bird-like bones._

_Juniper knew she was smart. Juniper did not know how to fix her._

_There was no prey; not in the muddy ditch where they sheltered. The cardboard box they had made their soggy den was _not _edible. That didn't stop the blue-grey she-kit's littermates from gnawing on the edges._

_Juniper whimpered and kneaded the wispy fur of her mother's belly. It rose and fell with small, shallow breaths that grew fainter by the minute._

_Blue's amber eyes flickered open. Juniper scrambled to her paws, crying, "Ma!" but the she-cat only stared over her head with a dull gaze. They did not see her daughter; they only saw the figures of her nightmares, the shadows who hid in the edges of her vision._

"_We can run," she whispered, in a small, hoarse voice. It was nothing like her mother's silky tones that were so familiar, held none of the warmth that she used to radiate. This was a scratchy, feeble echo, and it made Juniper want to wince._

"_We can run, run, run, but we can't hide."_

"_What do you mean ma? Ma?" Juniper was bewildered; her mother's strange words frightened her._

_Ma's head fell back and she sighed. Her flanks fell, deflated, and they never rose again._

_Twig raised his head, his little white whiskers trembling. He put a paw on Ma's muzzle._

"_I'm hungry," he wailed._

_Ma didn't look up, didn't blink her round, glazed eyes._

_Feather shivered, wrinkling her nose. "Ma, it smells funny. Make it go away, ma-"_

_She broke off as a long shadow fell across the box's entrance. Juniper whirled, a squeak building in her throat; an unfamiliar tabby tom stood in front of their den, blue eyes twinkling with triumph._

"_Hey Longfern!" he called, glancing over his shoulder. "Look what I found!"_

…

_The tom that found them introduced himself as Gorsestripe, and his white-furred frined- _Clan-mate- _as Longfern. He told them that he was taking them to his 'Clan'. He told them they'd be safe. He didn't bring Ma. _

"Do you, Mistpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?" Hailstar asked, staring down at the three littermates with pride in her eyes. She was a queen when the kits arrived, and had raised them alongside her older litter.

"I do," Mistpaw murmured, dipping her head. After they'd been accepted into the Clan, Hailstar had changed her name. They already had a Featherpool, she'd explained, and made Feather Mistpaw.

"Then, by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. From this moment forward you shall be known as Mistclaw. StarClan honours your bravery and your fearlessness, and we welcome you as a full member of RiverClan."

Hailstar repeated the ceremony with Shrewpaw- Twig had insisted on changing his name when Mistpaw did- and he became Shrewnose.

Finally, the aging black she-cat turned to Juniper. The apprentice tried to smooth her blue-grey pelt.

She hardly heard the ceremonial words, barely caught her new name; her nerves were too great, her memories too demanding.

_Ma should be here_, she thought, glancing at her bright-eyed siblings. She saw their mouths shape the name _Juniperheart_, but like Ma in her final moments, she did not hear.

_We can run, run, run_, a skeleton's voice whispered in her mind, _but we can't hide._

The Clan was chanting their new names.

"Mistclaw! Shrewnose! Juniperheart!"

Her littermates had changed their names, but she'd kept hers. In honour of their dead Ma- to appease the memories that haunted her, snagging at her every pawstep.

Hailstar glanced at the dark sky, purring, saying something about their silent vigil.

_Great,_ Juniperheart groaned inwardly. _A whole night to wallow in my memories._

Her littermates bounded ahead to the reeds that marked the edge of the camp, chattering excitedly. They didn't spare a word for Ma.

Owlpelt, Shrewnose's former mentor, snapped at them to be quiet

Inch by inch, the camp descended into darkness.

Juniperheart was drawn into her memories, once again feeling her mother's ragged pelt beneath her paws, drinking the stale air, ma's feeble voice scratching her ears.

Her littermates huddled together, clapping their tails over their mouths to keep from giggling.

Ma's dying words echoed in her skull, reverbrated with each thud of her heart.

_We can run_-

She'd never stopped to ponder what those words had meant. She'd tried to pretend they were the dying ramblings of a half-sane she-cat, tried not to ponder the true context behind them.

She tried to act like she didn't know something hunting them. It had been what, eleven moons? Nothing was going to happen.

It was her mantra. _Nothing is going to happen._

Her siblings believed it. They hardly remembered the gloomy morning when their mother died. They hadn't heard her last rasping sentence.

Close by, something in the small river splashed. Juniperheart startled, pricking her ears. The familiar sounds of night froze for a moment, before returning to their usual volume. She glanced at her littermates; they stared off into the opposite direction, muffling their yawns with their tails.

Juniperheart slid over to them, pressing her back against their pelts. Were there yellow eyes hiding behind the softly waving reeds?

"Did you see that?" the young warriors whispered, breaking the mandatory silence. Her blue-grey fur, so distinctively like ma's, began to bristle warily.

_We can't hide._

* * *

**:3 Yay, another challenge for LeafClan done and dusted. Perhaps there was geometry homework...but eh. I did that too.**


End file.
